


Pure Fluff

by ChaoticxCreator



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23891824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticxCreator/pseuds/ChaoticxCreator
Summary: Sam, an original female character, and the pure unmitigated fluff the show never allows him to have
Relationships: Sam Winchester/OC
Kudos: 2





	Pure Fluff

**Author's Note:**

> This is a drabble from the Epic Fanfic I'll Never Write. Unbeta'd and written off the cuff so read at your own risk!

I collapsed into the chair diagonally opposite from Sam with a contented sigh. No sense in fighting for leg space with a six-foot-four Sasquatch.

“That good, huh?” he smiled over the rim of his coffee mug.

“I hereby nominate Dean to be in charge of breakfast henceforth, forevermore, and to the end of time.” I sat up straight and adjusted myself more comfortably in the hard wooden chair. “Or at least on saturdays. I don’t even want to think of how round I would be if I ate like that every morning.”

“You could come running with me,” he said, the ancient page of his book crackling as he gently turned it. “A good exercise routine covers a multitude of dietary sins.”

“Uh, hard pass, thanks,” I said, and grabbed the top book of the pile nearest me. “One: you get up at the ass-crack of dawn to run like half the distance of the state, and two: I’ve already made peace with the fact that if I ever have to run for my life, I’m as good as—“ I stopped, and frowned at him.

He frowned back. “What?”

I moved my head to the left, then to the right, then stood half out of my chair to peer at him even closer.

He turned to look behind him, dumbfounded. “What?” he asked again, and started patting down his hair and swiping at his mouth. “Is there something on my face?”

For a minute, I could have sworn his eyes looked brown, a dark sort of amber-y caramel. But then with the change in angles, combined with his wide-open bewildered puppy dog eyes, I saw the familiar glint of teal and I sat back, satisfied.

He gaped at me as I went back to my book as if nothing had happened. I fought to control my face and focused hard on the page in front of me as he shifted between confused and annoyed. “So we’re just...gonna ignore you staring weirdly at me then?” he asked, brow furrowed.

I placed both my hands on the table and stood abruptly, allowing the calmest, least crazed version of my smile to break out on my face. “You know what would go really well with—uh,” I glanced down at my book—“ _‘A Treatise on the Alchemical Properties of North-Growing Lichen?’_ Some OJ. You want some?”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion at me, and hefted his mug. “Coffee’s good.”

A brighter smile forced its way out of me, and I turned and made my way to the kitchen, fairly skipping in my haste to get away before he could witness the full force of my delight. God, that man was pretty.


End file.
